


Companions Tell the Sole Survivor They Love Her for the First Time

by tea_petty



Series: Collection of Companions' Reactions [11]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Companions, Companions React, F/F, F/M, I Love You
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 17:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16897272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: Those three little words; more or less a death sentence.





	Companions Tell the Sole Survivor They Love Her for the First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

**Cait:** The first time Cait would ever tell Sole she loved them wouldn’t be the first time it occurred to her.  Normally, Cait was the type to rush forward in the face of fear; it’s what helped her survive as a raider, it’s what kept her victorious in the Combat Zone, and it’s how she kept up with Sole.  Her feelings for Sole scared the hell out of her, so she figured this should be handled similarly.  The first time she told her had been at Sole’s bedside, after a mission went awry – Cait had seriously thought she might lose Sole, and that’s when she had realized she couldn’t live without her.

“I-I love you…”

She had whimpered, face buried in her hands to an unconscious Sole.  Much to Cait’s relief, Sole had woken up not remembering anything, and made a full recovery.

The second time had been the first time she and Sole had slept together; a sloppy, drunken escapade that had resulted in a comfortable partnership that neither felt pressured to define.  The heated events of the evening had reached their peak, as the moon did in the sky, and as involuntarily as her climax had been ripped from her, Cait couldn’t help but sigh out an impassioned “I love-“

Cait had caught herself, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, the flush of her body’s exertion hiding the shameful crimson that further warmed her face.

This time though, Cait wasn’t sure if she’d be able to stop herself; this quiet, gentle evening, pleasantly cool, and at the same time, warm with drinks, and friends.  She and Sole sat in a quieter corner, perfectly balanced between the glow of lantern light, and the cold shards of moonlight.  Cait couldn’t remember a time she felt calmer – and this security, which Cait had learned throughout her life, was usually false, was dangerous.

Cait felt at ease, relaxed, and looking at Sole, she felt…right.  Sole was comfortably slouched against the door frame leading into the house, legs crossed over the front stoop, her head falling to the side endearingly.  Cait couldn’t say it, but she couldn’t,  _not_  say it.

“I…”

Cait started, her accent sounding strange as it floundered in the basking silence.  Sole turned to look at the Irish girl, curious.  Cait’s mouth went dry.

“I love…”

Sole’s gaze refused to let her retreat this time.

“I love y-“

Cait’s breath caught in her chest.

“Uranium fever!” she blurted.

Sole stared at her.

“I-It’s my favorite song.”  Cait said lamely.

Sole studied Cait for a second, and Cait had to force herself to look away, and not decipher the careful expression.  In the next moment, Sole scooted closer to Cait, arm to arm, hip to hip, reaching to twine her fingers towards hers.  She tilted her head again, letting it fall to the side, this time coming to rest on Cait’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, “I love ‘ _Uranium Fever’_  too.”

 **Curie** : Curie sat atop an overturned paint pale – one of many surrounding the cozy bonfire Preston and Sole had put together, for the people of Sanctuary.  Following the destruction of the Institute, Sole had decided it was high time for everyone to come together and celebrate – as such occasions were rare in the Commonwealth.  Crispy squirrel bits roasted over the fire, filling the air with the aromatic smell of food, as the sun began its descent in the sky.

Curie lounged in front of the fire, not quite used to small talk, but enjoying the easy atmosphere all the same.  Danse came to sit next to her, for once, not in his power armor, and nursing a cold beer.

“Parties make me uncomfortable.”

Curie chuckled, “As you can see, I’m no social butterfly either.”

Danse nodded, sipping his drink.

“It’s tough to be social with such a strange, ragtag group of people though.”

Curie let her gaze trail over the familiar faces she had grown accustomed to in the past months.  The unflappable Railroad agent making a group of settlers laugh, a former stray contentedly dozing beneath Sole’s abandoned seat, the wily mayor of Goodneighbor engrossed in a conversation with a Diamond City detective.

“It is an unconventional group.” Curie agreed.

“Sole’s really the only reason we’re all here.” He commented, “She’s a ‘good man in a storm’, and I think we can all respect that, regardless of…other agendas.”

Curie smiled, her eyes softening, “She is remarkable, no?  Capable of bringing together all these people, and I think we’re all better off because of it.”

Danse paused, mid-sip studying Curie’s distant expression.  Realization flooded him.

“Oh, so that’s how it is?”

Curie turned sharply to look at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Sole?  It’s not a bad match – I think you two could last a long time.”

“Don’t assume things you know nothing about!” Curie scolded, her cheeks darkening.

“Sorry,” Danse raised a hand in surrender, “but…you could both do a lot worse.”

Curie’s heart pitter-pattered, and her eyebrows furrowed, more flustered.  

“You’re right, you’re no good at parties!”

“I’m just saying if you like, or…love Sole, no one would think-“

“If I love Sole, it’s no one else’s business!”

Silence met the end of her indignant protest, Curie not realizing she had escalated to a yell.

Her cheeks darkened further, as she felt eyes on her; the settler’s and the ones she couldn’t bear to meet the most.

Curie was at a loss; she wasn’t used to feeling such things – embarrassment, shyness, excitement; and all at once!  The flittery emotions chased dizzying circles in her heart.

“I think it’s my business!”

Curie watched as Sole stepped forward, a crooked smile on her flushed face, waving.

Danse stood up, clearing his throat, he raised his beer slightly, “Ad Victoriam.”

 **Danse** : Danse sat slumped against the outside wall of a house in Sanctuary; safely beneath the overhang as an April shower graced the Commonwealth Spring.  

“Danse,” Sole murmured, leaning against the door frame.

He didn’t answer, just blankly watched the water slap the pavement of the decaying main street.

“Danse, talk to me.”  Sole murmured again, moving to crouch beside him, but careful not to touch him.  “Please, I…please talk to me.”

Danse turned sharply, “And what would you like me to say?”  his voice was curt, too polite, cutting into her like knives.

“I…want to know, what you’re thinking.”  Sole said weakly.

His cold gaze wouldn’t relent.

“I-it’s been two days since the…since you left the Brotherhood.  You’ve barely said a word, and I’m worried.”

“I didn’t leave the Brotherhood, they left me. Because I’m a synth.”

Sole tried to brush a soothing hand against his shoulder, she winced as Danse moved away from her touch.

“Danse, please, I need…I want to know-“

“You really want to know what I’m thinking?” he raised his voice suddenly, and Sole flinched.

“I’m thinking that everything I’ve known for the past thirty years has been a lie.  I’m thinking that everything I  _am_  is a lie.  I’m thinking that two days ago, I woke up with you, completely sure of who I’d be by the end of the day, and how untrue that ended up being.”

Danse said bitterly, the hardness of his voice almost physical.

“I’m not a lie,” Sole said quietly, reaching for him again, catching the crook of his arm, in an unrelenting grip.

“Do you think I can love you?”  he asked harshly.  “Two days ago, I was sure we were going to get married.”

Sole’s eyes widened, as the tears threatened to brim over.

“I was sure I loved you, and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The hard contours of Danse’s face contorted to despairing.

“And then I find that those feelings may not be  _mine_ , and that they might not be… _real_.  That I spent our nights together, looking at you, thinking how deeply in love I was with you, only to find those feelings might just be a program made by those…quacks at the Institute…”

He shook his head, disgusted.

“That’s what I was thinking.  Right now, I’m thinking that this is the first time you’ve heard me tell you ‘I love you’, and it might not actually be mine.”

The hush of the rain pouring smothered the silence that filled the space between Sole and Danse.  Danse continued to sit, watching wordlessly.  Sole let herself curl up at his side, his arm wrapped securely around her.  She was wordless too, and the tears that streamed down her face, soundless.

 **Deacon** : Deacon waited a long time…after Barbara. He changed his face, he changed his clothes, but his patience never changed.  Or was it his reluctance?   Some may call it cowardice, he might call it that now.  He hadn’t felt such a hatred for himself in so long – he had forgotten such a brutish thing could lurk within him.

It had been within the first few seconds of standing before Sole – with Desdemona, playing gate keeper for the Railroad, that he had realized he was attracted to her.  Her quick wit, and silver tongue, as sharp as the blades she’d wield had allured him, hidden beneath Sole’s soft, pre-war features.  He’d told her the best he could, that he was rooting for her.

It had been the first few weeks after traveling with Sole, that he found he liked her – her good nature, and her propensity for kindness.  She treated everyone with dignity and respect and had no shortage of good drinking stories to tell.  Work and play were both fun with Sole, but more often than not, Deacon found himself confusing the two – it all felt the same with Sole; good.  He had sent her secret smiles that lingered after his easy-natured comments and hoped she had gotten the message.

A few months into traveling with Sole, Deacon came to the realization that he was in love with her – and he couldn’t say a thing. They had barely escaped the Museum of Witchcraft with their lives, and limbs intact.  He had been enraptured (and probably saved) by Sole’s bravery and quick thinking.  He leaned on her that day, and realized he’d never want to lean on anyone else.  He had almost lost her that day – and realized how unbearable it would’ve been if he had.  He looked at her, and his heart seemed to swell, and for the first time in years, he thought of Barbara.  That’s when he knew he couldn’t say a thing.  At the time, it had seemed justified – he’d quietly live out his days, by Sole’s side. That could be enough.  He held his tongue, his patience tempered by years of suppressing guilt and trying to move forward.

The first time he had held Sole’s hand, he had let her squeeze it as Dr. Carrington had been setting her dislocated shoulder back into place, after she took a nasty spill on a Railroad mission.  She had apologized profusely through her tears, afraid of hurting  _him_.  He had reassured her – it was no trouble.  Secretly, he reveled in her touch, pretending he’d get to feel her warm hand in his every day for the rest of their lives, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  His patience stuttered but did not falter.

The first time he had kissed her, she had gone down fighting, toppling right off of the Tucker Memorial Bridge, falling into the previously still water.  He had realized something had been wrong when Sole did not come up after the raider’s body had.  He dove in, and found her floating stilly, a few feet below the surface – still too heavy to be dead.  He bubbled his relief, and grabbed her, before swimming up, and breaking the surface with a frantic gasp.  He fought through the steady resistance of the water against their bodies, dragging Sole up to the beach and rolling her on her back.  His hands had pumped at her sternum, trying to force water out, as his lips descended on hers, trying to force air in.  He breathed and pumped in a steady rhythm, until she jerked beneath him, jackknifing to a sitting position before spitting up several mouthfuls of lake water, and coughing.  He had rubbed her back soothingly, teasing her about not having been in the Commonwealth long enough to have developed  _gills_.

Idly, he had wondered if those four kisses would be all he’d get.  His patience bent, threatening to break, but it did not.

Now the warm glow of the funeral pyre heated his face, the dancing flames and his sunglasses casting shadows across his harsh bone structure.  Behind him, he felt the pitied eyes of the other Railroad members; Desdemona and Glory stood stone-faced in the back, Tinker Tom was quieter than normal, and even Carrington had nothing to say, his face somber like the grave.

“It’s a shame, Wanderer was one of the good ones.” Drummer Boy remarked, resting a hand on Deacon’s shoulder.  

His grip disappeared from his shoulder, and Deacon stayed faithfully in front of the fire – as he would, until the last ember died out.  

“I love you.”  He whispered under his breath, as the flames licked at Sole’s still form.  

 **Hancock** : Hancock took a long puff of jet, and Nick wrinkled his nose from his side of the coffee table.

“Hey, Valentine – can I tell you something?”

“That depends,” Nick took a drag of his cigarette.

“You’re a cop, right?  Well, I’ve got a confession.”  Hancock grinned cheekily.

“To a crime?”  Nick looked at the mayor suspiciously.

“No, or at least, not that  _I’ve_  committed.”

Nick leaned in, “What do you know?”

Hancock leaned back, studying the jet cannister.

“I know there was a theft of…precious cargo.”

“Go on.”

“And I know the culprit was…Sole.”

Hancock tried his best to keep a straight face.

“You’re kidding.”  Nick couldn’t hide his disappointment.  “She must’ve had a reason…she’s got a good heart.”  Nick shook his head.  “That’s a shame.  What did she steal?”

Hancock leaned in, taking another puff, and resting an arm on Nick’s shoulder.  

“My  _heart_.”

Nick sighed, and sat back exasperatedly, “For Chrissake.”

Hancock laughed stupidly, the chems making him giddier than usual, and if you asked Nick, insufferable.

“It’s true though Valentine, I love her.”

“So, why’re you telling me?”

Hancock shrugged, “Recently, it’s been sittin’ in my head like a loaded gun.  Felt it was time to spill it and I can’t do that to her.”

Nick couldn’t say he didn’t understand.

“Well, alright.”

Just like that, Hancock forgot about it – as he hoped. Love was finicky, and hard to maneuver. It could kill someone, and his confession, a vessel of those emotions, had been dangerous, as he went everywhere with Sole, armed with all those…feelings.  Like poison, all he had to do was get it out of his system and move on. He soon fell asleep, passed out on the couch from a chem induced nap.  When he awoke, he didn’t expect to see the object of his dreams frozen in the doorway of his quarters; caught like a deer in headlights.

Hancock propped himself up, with a small groan.

“’Mornin’ sunshine.”

He was hyperaware of Sole’s gaze on him as he moved. He was grateful that ghouls couldn’t blush.

“It’s night.”

“It’s morning somewhere.”

Sole nodded, satisfied by this argument.

“So, what can I do ya for?”

Sole rocked back on her heels slightly.

“Nothing.”

Hancock raised the space where his eyebrows would’ve been.

“You stopped by for…nothing?”

Sole shrugged, “Just to talk.”

Hancock straightened his hat on his head, but left his jacket, and dress shirt off; wearing only his undershirt, his trousers, and of course, his flag.  Hancock wondered at Sole’s strange behavior; she wasn’t the type to stall, and yet, she had yet to mention what exactly she was here for.

Hancock gestured to the couches.

“Make yourself at home.”

Sole paused, eyeing the space on the couch next to him, before beelining to the place on the other couch, across the table from him.

Hancock offered a cigarette, which Sole accepted, leaning in so that he could light it for her, before lighting his own.  The pink that highlighted Sole’s cheekbones did not go unnoticed by the ghoul.

They sat there, smoking in silence for a few moments, before Sole sighed.  Hancock tried to read her; she looked like she was trying to convince herself of something.  Uneasy, like she was about to do something frightening.

“Tell me something.”  She raised her gaze to his.

Hancock raised his eyebrows.  “I’ve been thinking…plenty of folks want to make life hard for people just tryin’ to survive, and I’m- “

“Tell me something else.”  

Sole’s eyes burned into his, and suddenly, Hancock knew exactly what was going on.  He could feel the tension in the air, the knowing in Sole’s eyes.  He grinned slightly, trying to ignore the budding agitation in the pit of his stomach.

“So, Valentine opened his big mouth, huh?”

“What he said was true, then?”

“That depends – what did he say?”

Sole’s blush was most prominent now.

“You tell me – what did you tell him?”

Hancock paused, taking another long drag of his cigarette.

“Sounds to me like you already know, doll.”

“Tell me again then?”

Her eyes were bright, she sounded breathless. Hancock had to resist the urge to kiss her then and there.

“’Right then.” He put out his cigarette on the sole of his boot, before sitting up, and leaning in, resting his forearms on his knees.

“I love you – always have and always will.”  He nodded resolutely, as if to prove his point. “That’s what I told Nick – maybe in a few more words.”

He watched Sole, for signs of anger, disgust, but all he could see was the darkening flush of her cheeks, and the catching of her breath in her throat.

He leaned back.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden.”  He remarked, but he could feel his edge slipping.

“I’m waiting.”

“Waiting?”

“To make sure I’m not going to wake up in my bed in Sanctuary to find this was all a dream.”

“Or a nightmare.” He chuckled.

“No, a dream.”  The seriousness in her voice caught him off guard.

“Well,” he said quietly, “It’s as real as anything.”

“Okay,” she breathed, and leaned in.  

Hancock let Sole grab his hands in hers.

“Okay.”

He leaned in too, so that now they were inches away. He was close enough to count her eyelashes – but he found a few more interesting parts to focus on.  Hancock paused, gaging for her reaction.  She closed the distance., and he closed his eyes, melting into her.

 **MacCready** : MacCready leaned against the worn wood of the door, careful not to move too quickly, and make the floorboards beneath him creak, to alert everyone in the house of his place.  Of what he was doing.

“Hey,” he whispered, waiting a few seconds.

“Hey!” he whispered again, slightly louder.

This time he heard some shuffling and a faint thud. He imagined Sole scrambling out of bed, and in her clumsiness, falling to the floor, before getting up and making her way to the door.  He didn’t need to hear the click of the doorjamb to know she was planning on opening it.

“Wait – keep it shut.”

MacCready’s cheeks warmed; he had thought the shut door would’ve made him feel more confident – instead it just seemed to paint a scarlet letter on his back, making him feel all secret, and dirty, and wrong.

“Robert?  Is that you? What is it?”

Sole’s voice was slightly muffled by the door between them, but MacCready could still hear the fatigue in her voice. Crap.  She must’ve been sleeping.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.  I just – had something to tell you.”  

He mentally slapped himself for the embarrassing way his voice paused.

“What is it?”  

Curiosity seemed to wake Sole up.

“Well I-“ MacCready’s cheeks burned, even with the safety of the wood surface between them.

“This is going to sound strange, but I’ve been thinking it for a while, and I just needed to tell you.”

“Okay,” she sounded nervous now.  MacCready wondered if Sole would freak out.

“I…”  his voice seemed to catch in his throat.

He could feel her anticipation through the door, burning him, suffocating him.

“I love you.”

MacCready instantly hated himself, he had done it, he had forced it out, it was over, and yet, he didn’t feel the relief he thought he’d feel.

The door suddenly swung open and MacCready was faced with a wide eyed, pink-faced Sole, clad only in her undershirt and shorts. MacCready couldn’t stop his own blush; heating up even more under her direct scrutiny now.

“What the heck?  I thought we were keeping the door shut.”  He complained.

“You’re not getting off that easily,” Sole’s eyebrows furrowed as she scolded him.

“So, what were you saying?”

MacCready’s ears reddened.

“I already told you, and I know you heard me.”

“So, tell me again.”  Sole smiled crookedly at him, her eyes giving away her nervousness, but her grin saying,  _please tell me more_.

“I…love you.”  He let his gaze linger on the floor; he studied the intricate wood grain markings, avoiding Sole’s gaze as she studied him, lips pursed, deciding.

“What, you’re not even going to say it back?”

“I will.”

MacCready felt himself being pulled forward, and he looked up, watching Sole’s fistfuls of his lapels drag him into the room, before kicking the door shut behind him.

 **Nick Valentine** : “Alright, Ellie, that should about do it.”

Ellie stacked the last of the holotapes on a shelf in the back, before closing the case folder on her desk and filing it away.

“Yep! All the cases have been backed up onto holotapes, for doubly safe keeping.”

Nick leaned back against his desk and lit a cigarette.

Ellie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, before tidying up her desk area; there wasn’t much to be done though.

“So, what is Sole up to tonight?”

Nick took a puff, “How would I know?”

Ellie gave a knowing smile.

“C’mon Nick, you can’t fool me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t get it – you’re a detective, you’ve faced off against tons of criminals, and yet you’re afraid to admit your feelings?”

Nick sent her a look, “I’m not afraid.”

“Then admit it!”

Nick rolled his eyes, sighing, “I love Sole, you know it, I know it, and now I’ve said it out loud.  I think we’ve covered all our bases.  Are you happy now?”

Ellie pursed her lips, “I mean, if we’re covering all our bases, I think that would require you to actually tell Sole.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Fine, fine.”  

Ellie laughed, before continuing her clean up.

A few hours later, Sole entered the Valentine Detective Agency.

“Evening!”

“Hey doll.”

Nick waved at her from his place at his desk.

“Ellie’s out with a friend tonight, so you might not catch her until later.”

“Okay!”  Sole went to take a seat next to Nick, at his desk, leaning on the side.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes.”

“Sure,” Sole glanced around the office, as Nick frantically scribbled last-minute notes on one of the old paper files.  

The office hadn’t changed since Sole had wandered in there almost a year ago, to help a distraught Ellie find Nick.  Sole smiled, she had had no idea at the time how much that would end up changing her life.  Suddenly, something jumped out at her; a small tape player laying on Ellie’s desk.

“Ellie has a tape player?  What kind of music does she like?”

Nick didn’t look up from his notes.

“Oh that?  We were actually using that to back up our open casefiles on holotapes; for ease of reviewing on the run, and in case a piece of the file gets lost in the shuffle of paperwork.”

“Hm.”  Sole picked up the tape player and examined it; it was the same type she had used pre-war.

Sole clicked the play button.

“ _-Than admit it! – I love Sole, you know it, I know it, and now I’ve said it out loud. I think we’ve covered all our bases. Are you happy now? – I mean…”_

Sole’s jaw dropped, and Nick whipped around, horrified. He lunged towards her and hurriedly clicked the pause button again, but it was too late.  Sole’s cheeks were pink, and she was hyper aware of their proximity.

Nick was pressed up against her, in his haste to shut the damned tape player off, his arm reached across her, placing his face nose to nose with Sole’s, just inches away from another.  Sole wanted to say something cheeky, play it off cool, something that would make her seem unlike the foolish little girl she felt like.

Nick cleared his throat.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out that way.”

He wasn’t one to turn a blind eye.

“Well, technically, I didn’t mean for you to find out at all.”

“Why?”  Sole hated how he sounded so controlled, even though it had been his confession that was leaked – and yet, she was the one who sounded unwound.

Nick gently retracted his arm and reached to steady Sole.  Her blush darkened at his touch.

“Well, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Sole blinked at him.

“Plus, you know me, I’m an old-fashioned guy – I haven’t even asked you to go steady with me yet.” He teased, trying out a tentative smile.

“So, ask me then.”

Nick looked taken aback.

“C’mon now doll, you don’t want me.  Plus, that sort of thing is usually saved for after a few dates.”

“So then, let’s go out on a date.”

“Really, you don’t want-“

“I want to go on a date with you.”

Sole’s eyes burned into him.  “And I want to skip a bunch of steps, and then go on more dates with you.”

Nick sighed, “You won’t take no for an answer, will you?”

He let Sole lace her fingers through the ones on his good hand

“I want to hear you tell me you love me again too,” Sole mused, as she gently tugged him towards the door.

“Don’t push it.”  He opened the door for her, and Sole knew that if he had flesh and blood, he would’ve been blushing.

The pair headed out for a night on the town, the green glow of Diamond City setting the mood for a step skipping kind of night.

 **Piper** : “Piper!”  Sole angrily called out, striding up to the reporter, a copy of the latest issue of  _Publick Occurrences_  bunched in her fist.

“Blue! Always a pleasure, what can I do for you?”

“This!”  Sole huffed, wringing out her copy, and holding it so that Piper could see.

“Oh, you read the latest issue!  What did you think?”

Piper was unphased as always.

Sole stabbed a finger in the center of the paper, on the word  _undercover_.

“You outed Deacon and I in Diamond City, do you know who could read this?”

Piper took a drag of her cigarette.

“Well, the idea is, everyone.”

“This could be terrible for the Railroad!  You could’ve condemned synths everywhere by jeopardizing the privacy of the Railroad.”

“Blue, I don’t know what you were thinking – I’m a reporter, I report, what did you expect me to do with the information?”

Sole flung her arms, exasperated.

“I went to you as a confidant, not as a reporter, it was supposed to be off the record!”

Piper frowned.  “You never said that.  Plus, technically, nothing is ever off the record.”

“Save me your ‘holier-than-thou’, devil’s advocate, freedom of the press bullshit.”  Sole glared at Piper, “I mean seriously, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Piper took another long drag of her cigarette, thoughtful. Then she stood up, dropping the butt to the ground before letting her boot put it out.

“Yeah, I have to say - I love you.”

It was so out of the blue, that Sole had to double take, and make sure it actually happened.  She had said it so coolly, as if she were asking Sole to grab her a beer at the Dugout Inn.

“Wh-what?” Sole’s cheeks were pink, and her eyes bewildered.

Piper grinned haughtily, “I love you, Blue.”

“Where did that even come from?”

Piper stepped forward to wrap her arms around Sole, “From my heart, silly.”

Sole rolled her eyes but returned the embrace.

“Oh, spare me your line.”

“It’s my line, for you.”  Piper murmured, her lips at Sole’s ear.

Sole shivered into the woman, fighting the grin that threatened to break her resolve.

“Whatever you say,” Sole grumbled, half angry that Piper’s evasion tactic was working, and half elated that Piper had said it finally – and first.

“I’m still mad at you though.”

Piper pulled back to look at Sole.

“That’s fair.”

Sole rolled her eyes again but leaned in to plant a sweet kiss on Piper’s mouth.  Piper tucked a lock of hair behind Sole’s ear.

“So, you’ve got any other scoops for me?”

“Oh, I’ll give you a  _scoop.”_

Sole elbowed Piper lightly in the ribs, evoking a shrill squeak from the woman.

 **Gage** : Gage was bad with words.  This was common knowledge.  Besides, he believed actions spoke louder anyways.  When he and the other raiders had gotten tired of Colter’s bullshit, he had plotted a way of finding a successor and eliminating Colter; and then Sole had shown up and bested the Gauntlet.  When he had met Sole, he had put a weapon in her hands, and helped her defeat Colter.  And there NukaWorld had it, the new Overboss.

Of course, this had gotten him into just as much trouble as it did triumphs.  His reluctance to talk things out had meant that it had taken months to get to Sole, when it could’ve only taken weeks.  Every hint she sent him, had been scrambled by his inability to deal with his feelings; she smiled at him, and he had grimaced, she had let her touches linger on him, and he was impervious, save for the goosebumps she left on him, and the fantasies that haunted him at night.  When Sole had gotten sick of waiting, she had pulled him aside, and confessed to him; told him to his face, that she wanted him.  He kissed her, roughly, harder than he had kissed anyone before, ever, trying to convey to her that he wanted her too – truly, and earnestly, even if he was too much of a schmuck to admit it openly.

It was that same argument that had led Sole to angrily storm out of NukaWorld to pick some fights – shooting the ass off of things always made her feel better.  But when Sole hadn’t returned that night, to Fizztop Mountain, Gage had worried; of course, he never openly admitted it.  He was a man of action after all.  He went after her.  It was hours later when he found her, using the last of her energy to fend off a hoard of Gatorclaws that had wandered from the bounds of the Safari Zone.  

Half of him was impressed Sole had managed to hold her own against so many for this long – he’d have to make a point to tell her this later – but the other half was horrified as they snapped and swiped at her.  A thin line of blood dotted her right cheekbone, but other than that, she looked relatively unharmed.  His relief morphed into dread as he watched one of the huge beasts lunge at her; Sole hadn’t noticed, she was too busy fending off one from her left.

Gage lunged forward without thinking, shoving Sole from the path of the enraged Gatorclaw, and going limp as he felt a burning pain rip across his side.  In the next second, pain, wild, and hot, wet, and messy overcame him, and he sank down to the dirt.  He heard a cry of rage, and the sound of a scuffle.  He waited for his world to go dark, but it hadn’t; merely dimmed.  It could’ve been moments or hours that passed, and then suddenly Sole loomed above him, watery and shivery.  Gage was confused; it was like staring at her image in a pool of water, after someone had skipped a stone across it.  It took him a moment to realize he was crying.

“Oh Gage,” Sole whimpered.  

Gage felt something warm and soft squeeze his hand. Her hand?  He couldn’t help the stupid grin that made its way across his face.

“I’m so sorry.”

Gage’s breathing was labored, and he felt something hot and wet drip on his cheek.  Sole was crying.  

“Don’t…be…”  

Gage knew talk was cheap, but shit, had it always been so much  _work_?  He was so tired.  The voice at the back of his mind was very talkative.   _You’re dying.  This is your deathbed._

Gage decided he had to talk then – he had to make things right with Sole before he left this world.

“God, this is all my fault!”  

Gage watched as a sob wracked Sole’s body, and she drew her other hand across her mouth, as her face contorted in agony.

“Wait…listen…”

He had to work extra hard to enunciate.  Gage mustered all the strength in him, he had to do this for Sole; had to impart this final gift to her – it would be the last thing he’d be able to give her.

“I…need..to…tell you…something….so ….listen up…”

Sole sniffled loudly, but blinked her tears away, and leaned in, almost nose to nose with him.  Gage could feel her warm breath fan across his face.  And he closed his eyes for a moment; she was so warm, she smelled so good – he couldn’t believe he didn’t have a lifetime left of this, because even that would be too little.

“I’m listening,”

One of her hands reached up to cup his face tenderly.

“Please, I’m listening,”

Gage’s breathing hitched, and he knew his time was nearly up.  He had to make this quick.

“Darlin’….listen…”

The petname felt strange coming out of his mouth. But good.  Gage imagined if he had more time with Sole, that he’d call her this every chance he got; waking her up every morning, cheeky, when she got fresh with him, soothingly, when she had a bad day.  Now he’d never get the chance.

“I…love you.”

His vision was getting blurrier, and he could feel the deliberate thudding of his heart now.  He fought to stay awake.  Fought for more time with Sole.  Any second he could scrounge up with her was better than any heaven he’d leave this world for.  That was good – he should tell her that.

“I…need…more…time…”

It was all he could say with the energy he had left.

“Oh please, no!”  Sole wailed, she sobbed.

Gage wanted to pet her hair, to tell her it was okay – how ironic was that; now that he couldn’t say anything, he had all these things he wanted to say to her?  He could suddenly think of every possible thing he would say to her for the rest of their lives.  Every argument they’d have, every ‘I-love-you’ they would share (he’d make sure there were plenty more), growing old together, their banter.

He was beginning to swim out of consciousness.

He was about to pass, he could feel it, but in the warm grasp of Sole, and hearing her voice, even if it was distraught – it was good enough, it was a better sendoff then he’d ever thought he’d get.  He had loved, and had been loved, even if it was a little too late.

Gage breathed his last breath under the pale moon and Sole’s body, convoluted with grief.

He left that Sole there, only to ascend into the arms of another one; warm and shiny, made of light.

_Wait for me._

They’d have an eternity after all.

 **Preston:** Preston raised his gun, and pointed it at Sole, a deep frown tugging at his features.

“I’m sorry General, but I can’t allow you to go on – not when you’ve betrayed the Commonwealth, the Minutemen –  _me.”_

Sole grimaced, saddened by this, but understanding – in retrospect, it couldn’t end in any other way.  She wouldn’t have done anything different, NukaWorld had been a part of her.  And for that very same reason, Preston wouldn’t have either – the Minutemen were a part of him. It had to end this way - it was oddly poetic.

“I understand,” Sole raised her hands in surrender.

“You’ve got me.  I’m unarmed, and I…don’t want to fight you.”

“And you think I  _do_?”  Preston sneered, tears budding in his intense eyes.

“We were  _happy_ , you were the  _General_  of the Minutemen, but more importantly, you were the hope of the Commonwealth – everyone thought that, not just me.  And then you – you turn around and do  _this_!”

“I don’t expect you to understand.” Sole’s jaw twitched.

“So, you feel no remorse?”  He spat.

“I don’t because I can’t, Preston.”  Sole’s eyes were apologetic, for him, not to him.  It made Preston hate her more.

He cocked his gun, fighting the violent tremble that threatened to overtake his hand.

“I loved you.  I loved you so much, I thought I might die.”

“You never told me,” Sole murmured, tears welling in her own eyes.

“I still love you – I think I always will, and that’s your fault.  You’re like a  _sickness_ , a  _disease_ , and now you’ve gone and infected me. Infected the Commonwealth with these raider scum.”

“You still love me, then?”

“I love you so much it kills me – and that’s why I  _hate_ you.”

“It changes nothing to say, that I love you too?”

Sole’s eyes were earnest, they would haunt Preston forever; full of love, and so clear he could see through to her, he knew she was being honest.  And now he had to put her down.

“It doesn’t,” his voice was tight, and his hand succumbed to his nervous tremor.  “Because this is so much bigger than you and me.”

Sole swallowed, “I love- “

The sharp bang of a gun cut her off, Preston pinched his eyes shut; it disgusted him, but he wanted to remember her that way; honest and loving him – not bloody and cold, her grief immortalized on her corpse.  He turned away, as hot tears leaked down his face, ready to return to the Commonwealth.

 **X6-88:** “What are you doing here, ma’am?”  

His voice was steady, but Sole knew that behind the shades, his eyes bared all.  

“I came to warn you,” Sole said softly, “you should evacuate.”

“And why would I do that?”  

His eyes followed Sole as she walked, trailing her fingers reverently along the walls of her former Institute quarters.

“So you don’t get blown up – the Minutemen are rigging up a device that’ll destroy the Institute once and for all.”

“Then what are you doing here.”

“Making sure the last of the innocent have evacuated.”

“And you think I’m innocent?”

Sole turned around, surprised at the proximity between her and X6.  She looked up; he was always so guarded, he had been that way ever since they first met. It hadn’t been until they had been intimate, that she had taken off his shades, and found the more vulnerable facets of his personality.  Christ, she’d kill to see those eyes one last time – to see what was on his mind, now in these twilight hours.  Sole reached up to cup his cheek, X6 stiffened but didn’t move away from her touch.

“No, but that doesn’t mean I want you to die.”

X6 scoffed, “Don’t pretend to care now – you betrayed us all, your son, the Commonwealth – you’ll be setting them back a hundred years all over again.   _Me_.”

Sole frowned, drawing the pad of her thumb delicately across the smooth plain of X6’s cheek.

“You taught me how to love, you showed me what love is, and then you made me feel things I…didn’t even know I could feel.  You gave me something I never thought I’d have, and for that I will always love you.”

His voice did not waver, but Sole was trained for his voice, and could pick out the thickness derived of the emotion he refused to let on.

“But, you also took that away, and so, I cannot leave with you.  Surely, you must realize that.”

A hot tear streaked down Sole’s face.

“Yeah, I do.”

X6 brought his hand up to twine his fingers through Sole’s, holding her hand to his face, before moving it to plant a kiss on the heel of her hand.

“Then it is time for you to go.”

More tears wet Sole’s cheeks.

“Okay.”  

She turned away, feeling the raw edges rip at her, as X6’s fingers fell from hers.  She walked. She kept walking, trying not to think of how each footstep took her further away.  Then she was jogging, her heart pounding, and her muscles whining, a ragged sob escaped her.  Then she was running, Sole’s lungs screamed in her abdomen, and she came to a dead end. Sole slowed to a walk, then to a stop. She looked at her pip-boy, another sob ripping from her throat, as she struggled to transport out of the Institute. It took Sole a few tries; her tears blurring her vision.  A flash of blue light, and she was gone.  Back at the Castle, she watched as a grand mushroom cloud appeared in the distance.  The brightness of such raw power made her wince – there was no way anyone inside survived.  

Sole fell to her knees, as those around her leapt, and hollered, hugged, and cheered.  They had won.  But it didn’t feel like it.


End file.
